Freshly baked every morning,
Even at noon and in the evening,
In different shapes and colors-
Some dense, some light
Some like desert manna
Some flat, some leavened
Some long and whole
Or sliced in small pieces
Some cooled, some hot
So soft and then some hard
With such Heavenly aromas
Served at the Master's Table
Of chairs, booths, benches
And cushions for tired knees,
Healing is the children's bread.
They hunger no more for worldy feasts.
Even their dogs eat the fallen crumbs,
Sometimes portions from their hands;
As the children drink Living Water,
They thirst no more for bitter fountains
And sources of a soul's diseases.
On earth the Master tabernacles
With us for many days of Heaven.
Within without we are healed
And given our daily bread.
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
Springtime fills the air,
like laughing gas.
(Or maybe more like whiskey.)
The suburbs are drunk on the nectar of it's dawn.
are starting to dance.
(Or maybe they're just wobbling.)
They vomit whole families onto their lawn.
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV:
Confused and intrigued,
with a slight urge to pee.
The father cuts grass,
like a sleepwalker.
(Or maybe more like a zombie -
Ravenous for cheap beer, instead of brains.)
A six pack later,
he starts washing his car.
(Or watering his driveway.)
He's spreading on wax so he's set when it rains.
The mother kneels in dirt,
tending the garden.
(More like digging in a sandbox.)
Her spade is rusty. (Figuratively, at least.)
A sunset later,
she cooks family dinner.
(Or maybe orders some pizza.)
(If every mouth is fed, she can call it a feast.)
I watch them the same way dogs watch TV.
The son plays war games,
dying for fun.
(Or maybe more for practice.)
He whines about fruit drinks, as well as the heat.
A full pitcher later,
tweaking on sugar,
(Or maybe just corn starch.)
the war escalates, 'til its time to go eat.
The daughter makes a picnic,
inviting her toys.
(Or maybe not.)
(Her plastic spread can only spread so thin!)
After the tea time,
she's off picking flowers.
(Or maybe weeds.)
(As long as they're pretty, there's a vase that they'll fit in.)
They gather, as a family, at the table to say grace.
They hold each others' hands and say, "Amen."
(And proceed to stuff their face.)
The dog sits by the boy -
Loyal and true.
(Or maybe just hungry.)
He drools as he stares from the corners of his eyes.
he offers to help with the dishes.
(Or maybe he demands it.)
The boy sneaks him a bite. The dog is not surprised.
Bedtime comes soon after.
The kids are sent to brush their teeth.
(Or maybe just to run the sink.)
They put on their jammies, and to bed, they go.
After tucking them in,
the parents watch TV.
(Or maybe they just dream they do,
sleeping in its glow.)
The dog is changing channels,
looking for a better show.
Confused and intrigued,
he pees on the carpet below.
One fine day, I planned a visit to zoo
Alone landed amidst the fauna left so few
Treaded merrily on greenery, singing my heart out
Whilst a lion’s scary roar made me shout
‘Ah! Another visitor’, said the lion annoyingly
‘Why should we entertain you?’ said he fumingly
‘What’s the point in wasting your energy and mine?
Making us do the funny acts, do they seem so divine?’
Hearing those words I dared
Reduced the distance, still scared
Said I, ‘Stop fuming King of Jungle, watch out for your age,
Hadn’t I come to visit you, wouldn’t you be bored in your cage?’
‘The answer dwells in your question, silly girl
You humans have no heart of pearls,
The so-called king of jungle imprisoned in cage
Heartthrob of millions I was, at my early age’
‘To meet my family, hope it doesn’t get too late
I need to eagerly meet ‘em all, my cubs, my mate
I still feel them, they are waiting for me
Oh girl! Be kind enough to set me free.’
I couldn’t have done that with all my might
Turned my way, delighted by a peacock’s sight
The multihued beauty was sheltered in a metallic cage
Awe! Gloomy this beauty looked, in distress and rage
‘What is wrong? Do you want to fly?’
It turned around and looked straight at the sky
‘Show me those vibrant feathers, the fan-like crest
Guests would adore seeing you dance at your best’
‘I dance just for my love, my love for rain,
Cool breeze no more likes crossing my lane
Why do I open my feathers without my mate’s presence?
Just to amuse you, I shall do; confined in this fence’
Dumbstruck, I decided to turn my way
Walked ahead in quest of animals happy and gay
There it was! A crazy monkey, flirting and making its choice
Mimicking others and playing around, hear its evil noise
Bouncing, bouncing and dancing, dancing
It ruled as if dungeon’s dominant king
Wow! You look so happy; what’s the reason?
‘Girl! No more fun for you, ‘coz free I’ll be from this prison’.
Two giant men came forward and opened the door
Good Lord! It’ll be free, unkind humans is just animal’s lore!
Monkey screeched, ‘Meet me soon in the nearby forest
Where I meet my pals, play, eat, have fun and rest’
Happy to see the monkey’s joy, I walked ahead
Across the bushes, saw a van, a huge van in red
Giant men carried animals and dumped in the van
Shocked I was to see the sight and reckoned their plan
Why was my monkey friend inside, for what purpose?
It was clear as I read the van’s name, ‘The Great Royal Circus!’
My dreams and desires
Are to write to inspire
I have so much to give
That is my reason to live
Peace always invades my spirit
I’m so glad my soul welcomes it
My compass to my life is lost
I cannot navigate the way home so pen pays the cost
I will always write to find my way
To my God I pray
As the realization dawned on me
When my pen flows I’m free
I can be anybody I want to be
So many of us have to settle for a life of deception
I shall soar beyond this world's limitations
In all things, follow your heart
In life be careful how you walk and talk
Think it, believe it
Don’t hold back do it
Let your dream grow
Please let God take control
I was a-munchin’ ‘n’ a-crunchin’ on some crackers ‘n’ cheese
When a-someone or a-somethin’ came ‘n’ tickled my knees –
With her tail up in the air in a question mark tease,
‘Twas my little grey kitten mewin’ wide-green eyed pleas –
Beggin’ of her human, “Oh kind human, please
Won’t you let me share in yer crackers ‘n’ cheese?”
I looked into her tiny face ‘n’ made the choice with ease –
Doncha know that to my heart this kitten holds the keys?
I felt her purrs flow past me, a gentle, liltin’ breeze,
‘N’ now my kitten’s doin’ the munchin’ on my crackers ‘n’ cheese!
I do not know?
Why should we live if we have
nothing to live for?
Why should we live if we have
nothing to die for?
Why should we live if
no one cares?
Why should we live if you're
loved by no one?
Why should we live if no
one likes you?
Why should we live if
no one loves you?
Each day is just a day
Each day is a day closer to death.
What's the point of living?
Some may say none,
Others may say why.
Why should we live?
Tell me and I will think about your answer.
neurotic narcotics reared reason in rows,
plucked pith-fully from truth,
agile enough in politick to anesthetise the waste,
languishing amongst the cling-filmed choral-forms
of symbiotic silicone…
the future lay dormant,
adjudicating the agricultural status
of domesticated foreign policy…
Dear little pony, the children’s clown,
Rough mane stands tall, his thick tail tumbles down.
Jiggety, jog. Yes, some riders have frowned.
Dad can ride him with two feet on the ground!
He’s a tough little, nuggety, wonderful chap
Who can live on the roughest of diet mishap.
We don’t feed him oats much, he’ll founder on those,
But if you can ride him you’re right home and hosed!
He’s full of the tricks that intelligence brings.
He’s always a challenge until mummy sings
Out loud, lets him know that he can’t get away
With presenting his backside to children today.
The children must learn how to command him too.
It isn’t the easiest thing they must do,
But they look for the pleasure of riding again,
So they learn how to handle tough diamond disdain.
They must learn how to stop him from racing away
Towards home when his head is turned facing that way.
His mind is on resting with food in his trough,
But his job is to teach, and he does it but tough!
Tough diamond’s a doorway to wonderful thrills
In the glorious world of the horseman’s spills
And great challenges. Once you can master this rascal
Nothing can daunt you. Introductory sample
Of every excitement that riding can offer,
He’s cute, pert, adorable, and he can proffer
Essential abilities. Gratitude is
The gateway to mastery, sire of bliss!
Every offence becomes laughable when
You think back to this tough little customer. Then
Your mind turns to teaching, as Daddy once did.
No more can the mud of offence cause a skid.
You’ll go round it. Or jump it. There’s no need to fall
When Gratitude’s mastered. Remembering all
Those scuffles you had that your dad helped you through,
You’ll mother, or father, or teach others too.
Seventeen cats are what we see.
Each one different to a degree,
Buddy, Mama, Peppy, and Le-Pew,
These are what, we named a few.
Seventeen cats, now what to do.
How to feed them, we had no clue,
They are Ferrell, wild and scared.
Scrapping, for food they appeared.
Six big, seven little, four just born,
Hungry, lost, looking so forlorn,
Feeding them is definitely a chore.
Now, oh so many trips to the store,
We have no choice, we feed them all.
Unfortunately, they are sick, we saw.
One walks away, into the woods, alone.
Never to be seen again, Natures condone.
More and more leave, at different times.
What a shame, they did no crimes.
Animals are our, precious humanities guild.
Without any compassion, humanity cannot build.